


Never Again, I Promise (Markiplier x Reader )

by TricksterGirl



Category: youtube - Fandom
Genre: Abduction, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Horror, Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapped Reader, Kidnapping, Recovery
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-03
Updated: 2017-06-14
Packaged: 2018-10-14 06:19:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10530660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TricksterGirl/pseuds/TricksterGirl
Summary: You were kidnapped at the age of fifteen.At the age of twenty-one, you are finally rescued.How will you deal with all of these terrible changes and memories? With the help of a red-haired man, of course!Inspired by: Captivity, Markiplier x Readerhttp://archiveofourown.org/works/7599853/chapters/17294911(Description just a placer, better one in the future)





	1. Run!

**Author's Note:**

> Warning(s): Triggers with Abduction, Captivity, Abuse (Mental, Physical, and Sexual), Implied Rape. Most are in passing, referenced it happened in the past. Please, if you do not want to read this portion where it is more in depth, and just want to read the comfort and recovery portion of this, then just check the warnings. I will definitely say when the detailed portion is done and the story is now focused on Mark and the story of recovery. 
> 
> This chapter is very detailed and unsettling. Reader discretion is advised. 
> 
> The reader is 15 during this chapter. When this goes to the present, I want her to have just reached 21. 
> 
> This is inspired by the fanfiction: Captivity, Markiplier x Reader. (archiveofourown.org/works/7599…). It is about Mark helping a girl who was in captivity for less than a year. I loved the idea and wanted to write my own story, inspired by it. I will not follow the same plot but definitely, go check out their story. I do not take the credit for this original idea. 
> 
> If I am taking something major from the other one, I will state it in the warning, though I doubt I will do that much. 
> 
> Title: Never Again, I Promise  
> Number in Series: One  
> Pairing: Mark Fischbach x Reader  
> Fandom: Youtube  
> Word Count: 1,245

You were fifteen and you were walking home alone. It was a nice Summer day, the heat slowly fading as the sun began to sink. You knew you would be home before dark, but it was dusk at the moment. It would be an hour or two before it truly got dark out. You weren't worried. You had done this many times before and you always made it home on time. So why did you feel scared? Well, it wasn't the fear that you wouldn't be home in time, it was caused by the van that had been following you a few paces back. It was going slow as if it was trying to find a house. You doubted that was the case because it seemed to be following every move that you made. You didn't know what you should do. 

You weren't in an occupied area. You had decided to take a shortcut to your house, which was a dirt road. It was a mile or so to the nearest house and you didn't know what you do. You were terrified. All you did was continue to walk, speeding up. You heard your flipflops flicking, being the only sound you heard other than the quiet growl of the car engine that was following you. 

When you heard the car stop, you felt your heart do the same. You knew what that meant. It obviously wasn't going to lead to something that was good. So, without even looking back, you took off running. It didn't take long for you to hear the heavy steps that were running after you. The sound seemed to almost echo off of the trees. If only they could call for help, but they were only trees. They would not save you. 

All you had to do was run to the closest house. That was all you had to do. You kicked off your flip flops, knowing you would run faster without them on. Flipflops were not running shoes and you felt as though you would run faster without them on. Though, now you had to deal with the pain that came with your bare feet hitting the rocks every time they hit the ground. Still, the pain was bearable. You ignored it while you ran. All you needed to do was just keep running for a bit longer. Just a few more minutes and you would be there. You tried to ignore his footsteps that were following you. 

But, you could not ignore the sharp pain as your hair was yanked back. Your body was pulled back and hit the hard body of the person who was chasing you. Before you could even let out a scream due to the pain, a hand had covered your mouth. It was large and stank of sweat. It reminded you of when kids got nervous on their first dates and their hands would sweat. Something told you that this man was not feeling nervous. Was he excited?

You struggled, but it was all for nothing. This man easily dragged you back to the van, ignoring your muffled screams for help and the way that your legs kicked in the air. He was so much larger than you, you didn't have a chance to overpower him. He flung open the back of the van and shoved you in, slamming the doors shut once again once he knew that you were inside. You crawled over, but there was no way to open the doors from the inside. You were trapped. 

The van shook at the man got back in the driver's seat. The car started up and soon you felt the car moving. Your shoulder roughly hit the side and you fell over. You knew that you had hit your head on the metal floor of the van. It was one where they transported something in the back, not the kind that there are seats in the back. Your ears rang with the impact, making that the only thing you heard. 

There was just the ringing and you felt something wet fall on your hand. You tried to look around to see what caused it but you found nothing. As you continued to be bounced around the back of the van like a pinball, you realized that you were crying. Were you crying the entire time? You couldn't remember. You could tell now. You could feel your chest tightening in panic and dread setting in. 

This was real. You were getting kidnapped. You thought this would never happen to you, but now here you were, crying in the back of a stranger's van. You always thought of kidnappers luring their victims into the car with candy, always ignoring when they are not tempted to follow. You never remember the ones that were forced, but here you were, one of those victims. You were about to become a statistic. 

As your mind began to race, you wondered what he was going to do to you. Was he going to keep you as some type of slave? Was he going to sell you into the sex-trade industry? W-Would he kill you? You began to sob even harder at the thought of dying. You hadn't even had your first kiss yet, there was so much of life left to live. You couldn't die this way. You didn't want to. You still had dreams that you wanted to accomplish. Was your life going down the drain as you thought over all of this? Were these thoughts the last ones you would ever have? 

The van took a sharp turn and your body tumbled over, hitting the other side of the van. Your head hit the metal hard and blackness filled up your vision. Everything went black and you were gone, left in the darkness of your mind. You stayed unconscious for the entire duration of the drive to the man's home. Which might not have been a bad thing. You wouldn't want to know what was going to happen to you once you were there. 

The man smiled as he opened up the door that leads to the back of the van. He saw you laying there, a small cut on your head. He would have to deal with that once you were inside. He picked you up and began to walk inside. Lucky for him, it was too late for anyone on his street to be awake. Plus, there weren't any streetlights close enough to light up the man carrying you. 

He walked inside, slamming the door with his foot since he was carrying you with his arms. He laid you down on the couch and looked over your body. He stood up, leaving you there while he went to go get some bandages for your head. He would wait until he began to show you the true side of him. He needed to get everything ready for what was going to happen. He wanted everything to be perfect and he would make sure that it would be that way. He would have it his way and only his way. No one was going to ruin his life with you, not even yourself. He would force you to be what he wanted you to be. That couldn't be that hard. He was willing to do some hard work to get what he wanted in the end. 

As they always say, good things come to those who are patient.


	2. 6 Years Later

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning(s): Triggers with Abduction, Captivity, Abuse (Mental, Physical, and Sexual).
> 
> Taking from the Original:   
> -Reader being Mark's neighbor. It just works out well that way. 
> 
> Title: Never Again, I Promise  
> Number in Series: Two  
> Pairing: Mark Fischbach x Reader  
> Fandom: Youtube  
> Word Count: 2,209

Years passed. 6 years to be precise, but you had no idea about the specifics. You weren't sure how long you had been stuck here, everything seemed to just fade together. Everything was just a blur of torture and fear. Some days were better than others, but none of it was what you wanted to do with your life. You never expected to be living here, walking around like you were walking on eggshells. In some ways, you were. You never wanted to make the man mad. He got very violent and wouldn't hesitate to hurt you in any way that he could. 

At the moment, you were standing in the kitchen. There was a medium sized window right above the sink, one of the rare pieces of your glimpses of the outside. On certain days, if you were lucky, the man would allow you to go outside to get some air with him. Other than those certain days, the only times you looked out on the real world was through these moments by the windows. You weren't allowed in many of the rooms, and the ones you were allowed in didn't have any windows in them. The only room that you were allowed in that had a window was the kitchen. The man made you cook for him, acting like a perfect housewife. He treated you this way since you first were brought here. 

You were staring off into space out at the house that was beside the one you were trapped in. It was so weird to know that salvation was so close yet so far. Did you even want to leave? Of course, you did, but you knew you couldn't. It was too risky to try and escape. You just decided to accept that this was your life now and that nothing was going to ever change. You might as well just deal with it as much as possible. 

You were brought out of your thoughts by two figures moving around. When focused on trying to see, you were able to figure out what had caught your attention. A man had walked outside, throwing something that looked like a ball. A beautiful golden animal ran past him to chase the ball. Your eyes were locked on the male who seemed to be having fun with the dog. He bounced around, obviously having fun with the animal. You couldn't help but stare. It was weird. You had never noticed him before...

You knew someone had moved in the house next to yours a few months ago. You had been able to hear the moving trucks and the workers help unload things. The man had kept you away from the windows during that time. He didn't want to risk the others seeing you and getting suspicious. He got in those moods where he didn't want to risk you being seen at all, which sometimes meant you had to go back down into the basement. 

The basement is where he had kept you for the entire first year of your life here. You had tried to forget everything about that time, but it was hard when he just kept bringing you back down to the basement, over and over again. You hated it. It was wet and dark, as well as freezing no matter what it was like outside. There was only one hanging light down there, which flickered no matter if a new one would be put in it. It just flickered a memory that was burned in your memories. It was the thing you remembered most about the basement. 

Recently he had been allowing you to wander a bit more around the house, giving you more freedom. It wasn't much. He still kept the tight iron bracelet locked on your ankle, the chain attached being what allowed you to move around the house. It only allowed you to go so far. You could reach the front door, but only enough to open the door. You couldn't go anywhere out of the house, the chain didn't reach that far. You didn't go that far, though. You stayed away from the front door, a rule that had been drilled in you since the first day you had arrived here. 

Without you noticing it, the man had met your gaze. His face looked soft, something you hadn't seen in a very long time. He had a small smile on his face and waved towards you, obviously just trying to be polite. All you did was stare, too scared to do anything else. When you noticed that he seemed to find that odd, you quickly looked down, acting as if you were busy. You hoped that made him go back to focusing on his dog. You didn't want him to look at you like that. If HE would have seen, you would have been in-

Speak of the devil and the devil shall appear. 

You felt him walk up behind you, pressing his body to yours roughly. His pressing made your hipbone dig into the countertop, causing a sharp pain to shoot down your leg. You had so many injuries on you, you lost count. He said he tried not to hurt your face too much because he didn't want you to ruin your pretty little face. Put, that didn't stop him from doing other things. Like digging his nails into your shoulder while he gave you a fake, behind hug. You could already feel the tears welling up in your eyes. You knew he must have seen and you knew he must be angry. 

"What were you doing?" He growled out, though his face didn't betray the emotion he was actually feeling. He looked like he was smiling and having a good time with you, while you definitely showed that this wasn't fun. It was never fun. It was always torture and pain, something you wanted to stop. You had thought of killing yourself, but you knew you would never be so lucky to succeed. 

"N-No-" You began but you felt his fingernails dig deeper. 

"Don't lie to me. I know you were doing something. It isn't time for dinner, so why are you in here, huh?!" You could feel his hot breath on your neck as he leaned in closer to you. You knew that your tears were spilling now. You weren't trying to hide it. 

"I'm sorry!" You whimpered out, trying to make yourself as small as possible. You knew that the man was angry and that this was going to lead to worse things. He was going to punish you and there was nothing that you could do to avoid this. You just hoped that you didn't have any broken bones by the end of the night. You were terrified. When he broke a bone, he always made sure to set it again so it would heal properly. 

This was how you learned that this man was a doctor. He was able to hurt you as much as he wanted but he had the training to be able to fix you all back up again. He didn't worry about breaking you...Would you prefer someone who didn't have the training? Would they be more careful when they were beating you? You had no idea. You tried not to think about what could have been. That always just made it worse. 

"You better be," He roughly spun you around, leading you back to the other parts of the house where the only one who could see you was him. Mark looked up to see the two of you walked away, the man's arm wrapped around you in a way that looked way too tight. He probably just looked at it in the wrong way. Sometimes he just worried about something more than he needed to. 

...

Weeks passed and Mark never saw you leave the house the entire time. Actually, he hadn't seen you at all. Were you just visiting? He knew he was probably just overreacting, but he couldn't get your reaction out of his head. Why had you looked so scared when he met your gaze? That wasn't normal, was it? Even someone who was an introvert wouldn't look that scared just to meet someone's eyes in just a friendly look. Why did he have a bad feeling about this? He couldn't get you out of his mind. 

When Mark walked out, he noticed that you were standing outside. You were just a few feet away from the door, staring out into the street. You were focusing on the sound that everything outside was making. The birds' singing, the cars' rumbles, and the wind rustling. He smiled and walked over to where you were standing, but he noticed how rigid you got once he got closer. 

"Hey, I'm your neighbor," He began, watching your movements. Everything seemed off like he was talking to a robot. Were you a robot, a new scientific discovery? He pushed that thought out of his head. He needed to take this seriously. He needed to know if everything was okay. He felt like it wasn't. He just wanted to make sure everything was okay so that this feeling would go away. 

You didn't say anything. All you did was look away from him, biting the inside of your lip. You were wearing a dirty white dress as if you hadn't washed it in a while. Plus, it looked too small for you. If you moved in the wrong way, it seemed like it would rip. Why would you wear something like that? It couldn't be comfortable...His feeling just kept getting worse. He hadn't been close enough the first time he saw you through the window. All he could see was your messy (h/c) up in a bun, looking like it hadn't been washed in a while. You looked the same way now. 

"Are you okay? You look scared or hurt. Do you need help? I could call someone," He made sure he spoke softly, not wanting to make you scared. You reminded him of a hurt animal that would run off if it saw one tiny thing that scared it. He didn't want to do that to you. He wanted to help or at least figure out what was going on with you. He was now getting a deeper feeling that something wasn't right. 

All you did was shake your head as if you were begging him to go away. Before Mark was able to say something else to you, the front door to your house began to open. The man who he knew lived there walked out. He couldn't remember his name. Was it John? He thought so. Something that was normal, something that was common. But, Mark was a common name so who cared. That didn't mean anything, right? 

"What's going on out here? Is she bothering you?" John walked over, wrapping his arm around your waist. His fingers dug into your hip, causing his knuckles to go white with how hard he was gripping you. Mark noticed and his thoughts seemed to become set in stone. He knew this feeling wasn't going to go away now unless he was certain nothing was wrong.

"No, we were just talking," Mark smiled, making sure to act as if he didn't suspect anything. He didn't want to do anything that could put you in danger. He felt like he was just overreacting, but it is better to stay safe than sorry. He would feel so guilty if he didn't at least try to make sure that everything was okay in his neighbor's house. 

"That's good, I wouldn't want her to bother you. She isn't good with social situations, she likes to be inside more of the time," John smiled up at Mark, something that made a shiver run down his spine. It wasn't a happy smile. It was one that was hiding something behind it, something that Mark wanted to figure out. Even if he was wrong, he could explain it.

"I'd love to see her again if she feels comfortable talking with me. I enjoy having a good relationship with my neighbors," Mark lied. He did like to have a good relationship with his neighbors, but he didn't try to hardest to make sure they all got along. He tried to allow things to go naturally and not force it, but he didn't care right now. He would force it if he had to.

"Well, she can't be outside for too long. She is rather ill," John pulled you as close as possible, leading you back to the door which was just a few feet away. The entire time you had been out there, you hadn't looked Mark in the eyes. You found everywhere else to look except Mark's eyes. It was a sign that Mark didn't like. Before he knew it, you were gone from him once again. He wondered when he would see you again. 

As he began to walk back to his own house, his mind raced about what he should do. He had to think of something. He would have to wait for the right opportunity to try and talk to you when you were by yourself.


	3. Work and Waiting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning(s): Triggers with Abduction, Captivity, Abuse (Mental, Physical, and Sexual).
> 
> Taking from the Original:   
> -Reader being Mark's neighbor. It just works out well that way. 
> 
> Title: Never Again, I Promise  
> Number in Series: Three  
> Pairing: Mark Fischbach x Reader  
> Fandom: Youtube  
> Word Count: 2,055

The punishment you received for being outside and seeing Mark was severe. It was so bad that he had even punched you dead in the face, his knuckles connecting with your cheek. You knew that you now had a black eye, as your left eye was starting to swell up. The pain was terrible, but you had learned to deal with it. Everything was the same now. The times when you were feeling better and the times where the pain seemed to take you over all were the same now. Everything was the same, everything was just time passing while you were stuck here. This was how it always would be. 

At the moment, you were sitting in the living room. The window was shut and locked. The blackout curtains were pulled tightly over and tied so they wouldn't allow anyone to see into the house. The iron bracelet was tightly clamped across your ankle, keeping you in the living room. John was punishing you by taking some of your freedom away. He didn't allow you to wander the house, instead, he locked your chain in one room where you would have to stay for the day. It was terrible. You had to beg to be allowed to use the bathroom if the chain didn't reach. 

You were just staring over at the white walls, looking at the stains. You wondered if they were there before you were brought here. Certain stains you remembered where they came from, as you were the reason they were there. Certain red stains...But others, you couldn't remember where they came from. Were they always there? You noticed when things changed since these surroundings were the only things you saw on a daily basis. When something you look at every day, you notice when they change. That's why you thought it was strange for you to not remember these stains. 

As you were staring at the stains, you heard John walking around upstairs. His heavy footsteps were the only noise that was echoing through the house. Everytime that the sound upstairs got louder, you would flinch as if waiting for the pain to come. Even if he wasn't down here with you, you were terrified of him. Any noise he made that could be taken as something he did because he was angry hit you deep in the stomach. You knew you were his personal punching bag when he was angry. You tried to learn how to deal with his fits of anger, but nothing seemed to work. 

When you winced from an especially loud noise of him dropping something, you noticed the pain that was covering your entire body. Last night's beating had been really rough, rougher than what you were used to. Your stomach felt like it was being pushed in, your eye was throbbing, and your chest felt like it was tight and broken deep inside. He hadn't checked you for broken bones yet, so you had no idea if anything was broken or not. It sure felt like it, but that could just be you overreacting to the pain. You had no idea. 

The footsteps were coming down the steps, coming closer and closer to you. Soon John was in the room, his looming figure causing you to shrink you back. You knew that at any time, his mood could shift to one where you were in danger. Sometimes he would act all sweet with you for one moment, and then it would change in one second and he would be in a mood where he needed to get his anger out on you. Because of this, you were always walking on a floor made of eggshells. You wanted to keep yourself from being injured as much as possible. 

"I am leaving," John said harshly, his eyes hiding something in them. You knew those eyes. They showed up when he was angry and needed to get it out. You hoped that it wouldn't be you. Sometimes you were lucky and he wouldn't touch you in any way. Other times, though, he beat you, or if he felt like he needed it, he would do some other things to you as well. You didn't know which you preferred. All of them were terrible. You couldn't remember what a positive touch felt like. 

"Where are you going?" You asked, biting your lip. You knew that talking could be a terrible thing here. Your voice only made him angry most of the time. It was better if you just stayed silent. 

"I need to go into work. I won't be home until later tonight," He grabbed his coat and roughly put it on. He didn't meet your gaze, something that you learned was a bad sign. When he didn't meet your gaze when his eyes were like that, it meant he was on the edge of the moments where he would hurt you. He buttoned up his jacket, putting on his hat on. You knew he must be going to the hospital. He didn't actually work at the hospital that was close by. He worked for a larger hospital a few hours away. He worked in a specific department now, though he started as just a basic doctor. Now he dealt with people's brains and all the diseases that went along with them. 

You didn't ask about how you would be going to the bathroom. You would deal with that when he was gone. You knew that if you asked him about it at the moment, you wouldn't get the answer that you wanted. You would end up getting beat again. You were hurt enough as it was so you decided the best thing for you to do was to just let him leave. 

He walked out, slamming the door. You felt the house shake and you felt the tension leave your shoulders. Everything in your body seemed to relax when he was gone. There was no need for you to be scared. You could just relax and be lost in your minds. You listened as the car rumbled away, signaling to you that he would be gone for the rest of the day. Sometimes he was gone for a few days, which was going to be a problem due to you being chained. You couldn't reach the kitchen or the bathroom. You would have to figure out what to do soon. 

But, before those problems were what you were facing, something else quickly climbed the later to number one problem. A few minutes had passed since John left when there was a loud knock on the front door. The tension quickly came back to nest on your shoulders and deep in your stomach. You didn't have enough time to even appreciate how things feel like without it being there. Yet, it always was back before you were ready, but this time was different. This had never happened before. What were you suppose to do? 

The knocking didn't stop. They just got louder as time went on. The person obviously wasn't going to be leaving and it wasn't like you could just do nothing, in hopes that the person would leave. If you did that, then what could happen? They may get violent. But, John would hate to learn that you had answered the door. He wasn't here, though...Could you just not tell him? You took in a deep breath before walking over to the door, slowly opening it up. You tried to keep most of your body hidden by the door, keeping it only open a crack. The only piece of you that was visible was your face, which was still hard to see since all of the lights were turned off in the living room. 

The man who was knocking looked down at your timid form, his eyes widening when he saw how badly your face looked. It was the red-haired neighbor that you had seen a few days ago. As soon as you saw who it was, you went to shut the door. No, you didn't need to see him. He was the reason you were like this. You didn't want to risk another punishment. Everything already hurt so much. It was hard enough just walking over to the door to open it. 

"No, please," Mark said while he stuck his foot in between the door and the wall, keeping it from shutting, "I just want to make sure you're alright. You don't look okay. Please, just listen to me. You can shut the door once I finish talking, okay?" 

You didn't look up at him. Instead, you just tried to keep pushing the door shut. You didn't want to deal with him. Yet, he was a lot stronger than you. You were malnourished but even if you were well-fed, you doubted that you would be able to shut the door anyway. This man seemed to be strong. You could see his muscles in his arms since he was wearing a tank top. 

He was able to push the door open enough to see more of your body. He was greeted by the sight of your battered body, covered in cuts and bruises. You couldn't remember what you looked like when you didn't have bruises on you. When Mark saw your swollen eye thanks to the light that was coming from outside, he knew things were not right. 

"Hey, what's going on? I promise I'm not gonna hurt you. I'm here to help, okay?" Mark spoke softly, making sure to not scare you more than he already had. He just wanted to help you, he would do anything that he had to. He knew he may be putting himself in danger because he was doing it, but he didn't care. He wouldn't feel right if he let this go. Something obviously wasn't right and he wanted to figure out what was wrong. It could be something as simple as you having some type of mental disorder that caused you to act in a strange way, but deep down he felt like that wasn't true. Now, he was certain that it wasn't 

For the first time, you looked up and met his gaze. He could see all of the pain and fear hidden in your doe (e/c) eyes. It broke his heart and he felt this feeling deep in his stomach, something that he could describe as a protective nature. He felt a protective feeling as well as anger, for the thing that had caused you to be like this. He knew that something was wrong and he was beginning to suspect that something that was wrong had to involve John, the man that lived in this house as well. 

"Does he hurt you?" Mark slowly asked, not needing to push the door open anymore. You had loosened your grip on the door, just looking up at him as if you didn't know what to do. Slowly but surely, you nodded your head, tears forming in the corners of your eyes. Mark wasn't sure what was going on, but he wasn't going to let you go back in the house until he figured out what was going on. 

When Mark noticed the chain that was on your ankle, he knew he needed to call 911. Whatever was going on was serious. He felt like this was some strange version of domestic abuse that he didn't know about. He had no clue. He walked inside with you, pulling out his cellphone. He had you sit down on the couch while he made the call. He gave the operator the address and explained the entire situation to her. She was patient and listened to everything that he had to say. He tried to get you to tell him more about what was going on with you and John, but you didn't say anything. You just kept repeating that he had hurt you. Guess he would figure out what was truly was going on when the police got there. He didn't want to push it too much. If you didn't want to talk about it, he didn't want to force you. It obviously was something that you weren't comfortable with talking with.

Now the two of you just needed to wait for the ambulance and the police to arrive.


	4. The Hospital

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning(s): Triggers with Abduction, Captivity, Abuse (Mental, Physical, and Sexual).
> 
> Taking from the Original:   
> -Reader being Mark's neighbor. It just works out well that way. 
> 
> Title: Never Again, I Promise  
> Number in Series: Four  
> Pairing: Mark Fischbach x Reader  
> Fandom: Youtube  
> Word Count: 1,776

  
  
  
    It was about fifteen minutes until the ambulance arrived. You were escorted into the vehicle, not really wanting to leave Mark's side but you were forced to. They needed to take you to the hospital while he waited to talk to the police. He promised that he would meet you at the hospital, though his words didn't help the anxiety building up in your chest. It was so strange and terrifying to get in the vehicle It had been so long since you had left the house. He only let you go as far as the yard, not even taking you out when he went shopping for food. It was scary, but exciting at the same time. You were out...But were you free? You couldn't shake the feeling that you were still a prisoner.   
  
    The ride to the hospital was one filled with questions, many of which you didn't want to answer. The people who were taking care of you were patient and when you wouldn't answer one of their questions, they wouldn't push it. They were treating you like a child, a scared animal that may lash out or try to run. You weren't that, were you? You hated the pity in their eyes. You didn't know why you felt that way. It was almost like you were angry at these people for not helping you sooner. You understood that they had no idea and none of it was their fault, but you couldn't help the anger in your core. You didn't want their pity, you just wanted their help.   
  
    They asked you questions like how long you were there, what was going on, who the man was, but no matter what was asked, you couldn't give them a straight answer. You didn't know how long had passed. You tried to explain what was going on, but it was hard to explain to someone who wasn't going through it. When they asked who the man was, you gave his name, John Doe. You hadn't realized that it was an obviously fake name. It wasn't your biggest problem to figure out what his name was.   
  
    The worst thing was when they asked for your name and age. You could remember your first name, but your last name was a mystery. John, or whatever his real name was, had made you forget that long ago. Age was a mystery as well. You knew what age you were when you were taken, but your age now was a mystery. When you explained everything you could to them, they decided that they would hold off on the rest of the questions. You needed to rest and their questions were not helping you in the slightest.   
  
    It was hard, but you tried to stay relaxed and calm as they looked over your body. You tried to keep yourself from flinching away from their touch as they dressed certain wounds. Touch was a terrifying thing for you. It had been many years since you had felt anything close to a nice touch and you had forgotten what it was like. A thing such as a friendly and healthy touch as impossible in your tired mind.   
  
    You felt a sting on your arm as they put an iv in you. The pain was only temporary and soon you were feeling sleepy. You weren't sure, but you thought it had something to do with whatever they were dripping into your body. It helped numb the dull and continuous pain that covered your body. You couldn't remember the last time you weren't in pain in one way or another. It was strange and really relaxing to feel just fine. It was nice, more than nice really. It was amazing. It was one of the best feelings you have ever felt.   
  
    Your eyes fluttered shut as the medication took its full toll on you. The were drifted off into a black abyss. It wasn't a bad one, it was nice. It was peaceful, it was nothing. Nothing could hurt you here. You were safe from anything that could hurt you. You didn't have to feel anything, including fear. There was no fear or paranoia. There was just a nice numb feeling.  
  
    As you were knocked out, they began to do all sorts of tests on your body. They had one of the longest lists of tests that they had to run on you. They needed to check for everything. You didn't have any type of medical record and they needed to do normal tests (that they run on any patient coming in) as well as the tests that were specific for people who went through trauma such as kidnapping (mainly with sexual and physical trauma). Once you got to the hospital, they quickly put you in a permanent room. They knew you would be staying with them for a while so they should just get you into a permanent room as quickly as possible. They didn't want to keep moving you around. That would be problematic. It could just cause your body to be in more pain. The less they moved you around, the better.   
  
    Your room was filled with multiple nurses and doctors coming to and fro. Some stayed only for a moment while others stayed a bit longer. You had no idea how many people saw you while you were in the vulnerable state. One or two police officers visited you as well, but they never stayed long. They only wanted to see what you looked like, but since you were asleep still, you couldn't answer any of their questions.   
  
    So, the police officers went out and finished questioning Mark. He told them everything that he knew, which wasn't very much. He told them about today and what had happened for the past few days. The information wasn't much, but it did help give them a slight idea on what was going on. The bad thing about you being out and Mark not knowing a lot was that they couldn't find out where that John guy was. The name wasn't going to help them track him down. They would need more information to be able to figure out where he was.   
  
    Mark, once the police were done talking to him, decided to make his residence at the chair that was beside your bed. The nurses asked him questions from simple questions that they were just curious about to medical questions so they could make sure they were treating you the right way. He answered all of the questions as well as he could while still watching you.   
  
    You looked peaceful and relaxed. He hated to think about how much you have been through and what was going on in your head. They had called in a psychiatrist and they would arrive tomorrow morning, planning to evaluate you and diagnose you. Deep down, he didn't want to know what you might have when it came to mental illnesses. If he knew what you were suffering from, it would force him to think about what happened in that house that made you that way. It hurt him to think about what happened. How could someone do that to anyone, especially you? You seemed so kind and pure from the small amount of time that Mark spent with you while you were awake.   
  
    Even if you were one of the most terrible and mean people in the world, no one deserved to go through what you went through. Even for a single day, it wasn't right. And for you, it wasn't just a day. They didn't know how long you had been missing, but they knew it was probably for more than a year, based on how you were acting in the ambulance. There was a person working on the computer to find missing person cases dating back ten to fifteen years that had the same first name as you. It would take a while for them to find who you were, as there were quite a few cases. They had to do a lot of research and deal with many factors to find the case that was the closest to resembling your own.      
      
    Mark pushed all of that from his head. He didn't need to think about what happened to you. It was over now, that was the important thing. You would never go back to that terrible house where that man had kept you locked up. You would never have to deal with the things that you had lived with on a daily basis just days ago. You were now safe. He wouldn't let anything happen to you.   
  
    He didn't understand why he felt how he did about the situation. He could leave you here and just go home. He didn't have to stay in the hospital. He had helped you get out of the house and as many nurses said to him, he had already done more than enough. He could leave. But, he couldn't make himself do that. Something was keeping him there. He came to the conclusion that it was just him wanting to make sure that this ended well. He wanted the ending of this story of your imprisonment in that house to be a good one.   
  
    He wanted to save you.   
      
    Deep down, Mark was scared that in the end, he might be the only person there for you. You shouldn't have to do this alone and he wanted to show that he was happy to help you go through this. What if you didn't have family or close friends who would be there to help you deal with this trauma? You couldn't do this alone. You shouldn't have to.   
  
    So, he would stay there, at least for the night or until you wake back up.  He would go on from there. He felt like taking this situation step by step would be the best plan. He shouldn't plan for anything too far ahead because he could feel deep in his stomach, that things could change at every turn. Mark knew how to adapt well and didn't mind.   
  
    But, at the moment, he knew he needed to sleep. He curled himself up as well as he could in the chair next to your bed before drifting off to sleep. He was tired and was glad for the rest. Everything that had happened was so strange and terrible that they had truly taken it out of him. He needed to recharge so he would be able to help you once you woke up. Both people were asleep in the room, the only noise coming from the machines that beeped continuously.   
      
    


End file.
